


Opportunity

by Dragonsquill (dragonsquill)



Series: Hobbit ABCs [13]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-Bofta, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5422664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsquill/pseuds/Dragonsquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was after a particularly annoying morning, followed by an especially vigorous session of “make the miner moan for more,” that Bofur brought up the idea of an opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opportunity

Nori hadn’t suspected his ability to disappear in a crowd and reappear in a quiet nook would be a great necessity of his life in Erebor. After all, he was now a member of Thorin’s Company, granted noble status in accordance with Dain’s promise to Thorin in the last hours of that proud dwarf’s life. Becoming the (heir, thanks a lot Dori) to his own noble house should mean life was easy. He’d always imagine the lives of nobles being a matter of walking around looking superior, being overfed, and owning more clothes than any dwarf needed. However, it took only a few weeks after the arrival of the first caravan to realize escaping was as important a skill for a high-ranking member of society as it was for a thief.

Status came with responsibilities, and all the members of the Company ran ragged trying to keep ahead of the rebuilding and manage the incoming refugees. Proper down time was hard to come by and jealously guarded. For Nori, this meant disappearing into the depths of the mountain, the skills of his disreputable lifetime guaranteeing near-perfect solitude whenever he desired it.

It was _near_ -perfect because one dwarf could always find him. Every. Single. Time.

“I was born in the mines,” was the only explanation Bofur would offer for this anomaly, utterly cheeky as always. “The stone tells. Honestly, it’s cute you think you can escape me down here.”

Nori never bothered to tell Bofur that he didn’t necessarily mind being caught. He assumed it was implied in the fact that generally, their clothing didn’t stay on very long after Bofur came bounding in to Nori’s latest sanctuary. 

There were always perks to being found by the grinning miner and his backpack of blankets and more…slippery things.

“Miners are always prepared,” Bofur said with a smug, satisfied smile, using Nori’s stomach as a pillow.

Nori gave one braid a sharp tug. “Convenient for me,” he smirked as Bofur followed the pull to Nori’s friendly lips. The miner-turned-noble tasted of pipeweed and Nori’s skin. 

In the past, Nori had always been given to taking his pleasure and being on his way. But there was something about Bofur - the way he would laze back and tug Nori along, his tendency to want to pet Nori’s hair, the fact that his hands were extremely good at massages, just something – that made Nori linger. 

Bofur was clearly a terrible influence, but Nori couldn’t bring himself to care when the fall of fluff that was his unbound hair was being petted (Bofur was a bit of an expert at finding Nori’s previously secret weaknesses), and there was no one running around demanding his attention.

It was after a particularly annoying morning, followed by an especially vigorous session of “make the miner moan for more,” that Bofur brought up the idea of an opportunity.

“. . . Nori?”

“Hmm?” Nori was sprawled, unashamedly nude (no reason to be ashamed, he was lovely, after all), arms hooked around Bofur’s knees, as Bofur ran his fingers through Nori’s hair in preparation of returning it to the set of thick braids he’d started trying of late. No reason to be so conspicuous when he didn’t need it for a disguise. Obviously the choice had _nothing_ to do with the damage Bofur did to his former style in the midst of passion, nor with the fact that this current look was easier for Bofur to mess about with.

“I have . . .” Bofur’s voice was uncharacteristically uncertain, but Nori didn’t bother moving. He was comfortable and Bofur would get it out soon enough – he always did. Bofur was refreshingly self-sufficient and uncomplicated.

“I have a – ah – business opportunity for you.”

Nori’s eyes opened, suddenly sharp. “Business opportunity?”

Bofur didn’t meet his gaze, choosing instead to keep watch of his current section of fluff. “Mm-hmm. One that would nearly double your current treasure.”

Nori snorted indelicately. “Even with what we all donated to rebuilding, I’ve enough gold to last four lifetimes. What would I need with more?”

Bofur was clearly nonplussed. “For…for…well…basic dwarven greed?” he hazarded.

Mahal bless Bofur, but he was useless at this.

“Never go into business,” Nori advised.

Bofur huffed and crossed his arms, looking unusually put-out.

Nori took pity on him. 

“I suppose I could live in truly _ridiculous_ luxury with enough money for _ten_ lifetimes. And maybe I could hire a double to pretend to be me in boring meetings.” Nori smirked at his friend’s little sigh of relief. Self-sufficient, yes, but certainly no dwarf of mystery. “What is this opportunity of yours?”

“Well . . . it’s simple, really, but it does require someone attractive, clever, and,” Bofur’s voice dipped to a purr only his accent could manage; a purr that always made a certain part of Nori’s anatomy, even recently sated, stir and pay attention, “good with his hands to pull it off.”

Nori grinned slowly, eyes narrowing into shadows of seductive green. “Oh? And what would he have to do?”

Bofur’s expression was very serious. “In order to double your fortune – well, nearly double it – you have to say yes when I ask you a question.”

Nori felt his eyebrows rise, always a serious proposition. His hairstyle may have simplified with his new life, but his brows were as glorious as ever. “All I have to do is say yes?”

“Exactly.”

“And if I say no?”

Bofur shrugged. “You’ll still be pretty ridiculously wealthy.”

“So what’s the downside?”

“There isn’t one…for…ah…you.”

Nori pushed to one elbow. “Then who does it have a downside for?”

Bofur waved a hand. “No, no, no. Do you accept my business proposition? I’ll ask you a question, and if you say yes, you’ll be even richer than you are now?”

Nori rolled his eyes and shook his head, but his mouth curved into a proper smile, a far cry from his usual smirk.

Bofur amused him.

It was a soft, warm sort of amusement, new and different from what he’d grown used to in a life more or less on the run.

“All right then, son of Trofur,” Nori said, pushing to sit up properly and look his friend in the eye. “What’s your question?”

Bofur looked right back at him and, voice calm but eyes a bit wide, he asked, “Will you marry me?” 

Nori stared at him.

“You little _shit_!” he breathed.

Bofur looked almost blushy with pleased embarrassment.

“That’s not an answer.”

Nori should say no. He was not the marrying sort. True enough, he found Bofur good company and an enthusiastic lover with nice, large hands; and true, he smiled more and laughed more in Bofur’s company than anyone else’s; and true, if anyone was crazy enough to propose to him, this was the proper way to go about it; and yes, he’d actually considered asking Bofur if they might share quarters, as it was difficult to find time together as was and there were times he missed that purring accent and cheeky grin; and perha-

Oh.

Well.

….Shit.

There really only was one answer to such a proposition.  
“Yes,” he said, because who was he to turn down a brilliant business opportunity from the dwarf he apparently, foolishly, loved?


End file.
